Reaching the palace once again, the only thing on my mind was breakfast.
I had assumed it was late morning, but the sun was already high, midday. The servants should be here by now.
However, the first sight that greeted me was Renshu standing stiffly beside the dining table, eyes narrowed in a sharp glare.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, halting in the doorway.
"Hm? I don't know," he drawled, voice dripping with mock. "Is there?"
Why was he being so indirect? I was hopeless at guessing other people's thoughts. Choosing to ignore the tension, I crossed the room and sat down.
"Oh, so now you want to eat?" His tone cracked like a whip.
I blinked. "Did… I do something wrong?"
"You don't even know, do you?" He exhaled through his nose in disbelief. "I make food for you, and you don't even thank me. You don't even eat it. You're astonishingly ungrateful."
With a scoff, he turned on his heel and strode out.
It took all my strength to keep a straight face. Was he seriously sulking because I'd skipped breakfast in the morning?
The scene reminded me so much of my mother scolding me for delaying meals that I nearly burst into laughter.
Still, he had cooked. I hadn't thanked him. An apology was probably deserved. After all, this was the second time I left his gesture unnoticed.
I finished the meal quickly, his cooking really wasn't bad, and walked to his room.
Renshu sat at a desk littered with open books, an unrolled scroll clutched in his hand. His brows drew together in a troubled knot.
"What do you want?" he asked without looking up, annoyance showing.
"Your cooking is good," I began carefully. "I apologize for never thanking you for making breakfast. I'm grateful—"
"Oh, really?" he cut in, voice edged with mockery. Standing, he gave the chair a slow turn until it faced the room. "If you're truly sorry, then help me with this."
He gestured for me to approach. Reluctantly, I stepped closer and looked down at the scroll he held.
The neat characters were grim:
A massive drought has decimated the harvest in Daiyang, a densely populated village.
Starvation is widespread.
Although the state granaries hold emergency reserves, local administrator Mian Hao is hoarding the grain and secretly selling it at inflated prices on the black market, while reporting that the stores are empty.
Protests are forming. An uprising is expected if the crisis is not resolved.
—Hanyu
------
The answer seemed obvious: arrest the corrupt administrator, open the granaries, feed the people, and replace him with someone trustworthy.
"The solution seems simple," I said. "Free the grain for the peasants and appoint a new officer."
Renshu gave me a pointed look. "It seems simple. But you're making the same mistake I almost did."
He tapped the parchment. "The drought itself is the true enemy. Opening the granaries buys time, but it doesn't stop the famine.
Realization struck like a dropped spear. "The drought…"
"Yes. The drought," he confirmed. "And you're probably wondering why a military general is being dragged into a famine case. Normally this would be handled by advisors or finance ministers.
Unfortunately, those brilliant minds collectively possess the intelligence of two malnourished farmers. Wei Fang keeps finding creative ways to avoid tasks outside the army, so naturally they dumped this on me. How… unfortunate."
He scoffed and stared at the scroll, lips pressed thin. Even Renshu looked stumped, and that was unsettling. If he had no solution, what hope did I have?
I forced myself to think. "Let's break it down. We need relief measures and a tax reform that lasts beyond the next harvest."
His eyes lit faintly. "Ah, taxes, good thinking. Any plan must be sustainable. For now, if we seize Administrator Mian Hao's hoarded grain and use a portion as seed grain, the crisis can be postponed for at least a year."
"That's good," I said quickly. "And we could issue tax notes allowing farmers to repay only after the next harvest. That would prevent protests."
"Excellent. I could also launch a public-works project—repair the irrigation canals damaged by the drought and hire the peasants as paid laborers. That would restore water flow and give them wages."
I added, "Neighboring villages might lend seed grain if we promise repayment after the next harvest. That would give farmers enough to replant, just in case."
"Yes… yes!" Renshu's voice cracked with sudden excitement. He rolled up the scroll with decisive precision. "A solid plan at last."
Then he looked at me, with a faint smile he said, "We would make a good team, Meilina."
The compliment caught me off guard. This was the same general who once barked orders for me to spar with him, now acknowledging me as an equal.
As I straightened to leave, a sudden pressure landed on my back.
SLAM!
I caught myself with both hands on Renshu's shoulders. His palms pressed firmly against me, making sure I had to face towards him.
"W–what are you doing!" I yelled.
He said nothing. His eyes half-closed, face drawing dangerously close.
One hand slid from my back and the other rested on my cheek.
"This makeup," he murmured. "I dislike it. You look better without it. In fact—"
His fingers brushed across my face, smudging the powder and contour until only bare skin remained.
"There. Much better."
"Let me go," I ordered, trying to pull back.
He smiled as if enjoying whatever he was doing. "You skipped the breakfast I cooked last time when you overslept. You did not apologize for that, perhaps if you listen now—I'll forgive you for that time as well."
Tilting my chin upward with a gentle but unyielding grip. I struggled, but if I removed my hands from his shoulders, I would tumble straight into him.
His eyes closed fully as his thumb traced my jaw and his hands still pulling on my back. Heat flared across my skin.
And then—
"Alright, maids! Clean General Renshu's room first!"
The voice rang from the corridor like a bucket of cold water.